


Armored Hearts

by hiddencait



Category: Tomorrow When the War Began (2010)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Female Friendship, Gen, Misses Clause Challenge, well domestic for being in the middle of a guerilla war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2789873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddencait/pseuds/hiddencait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet moment between friends during a war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armored Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadowcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcat/gifts).



> So I lucked out an matched my giftee on not 1 but 2 fics. I decided to write my main gift, and then treat in the other matched fandom. Somehow that didn't happen. Instead I ended up watching Tomorrow When the War Began and this little ficlet poured itself onto paper without me knowing it was happening.
> 
> So, Shadowcat, I hope you enjoy this treat too!

It’s strange to think how easy this is, cleaning and loading rifles, checking ammo, and packing more into our vests and backpacks. The violence of our lives has become routine instead of a shock. I don’t know that I like the way it feels, to be honest. I don’t know that I ever did, never mind that I was the first one to kill in our side of the war. Or at least our little band of fighters in our side of the war. I still don’t like to think about it, about that unknown soldier in her uniform, face all burned and bloody. It still wakes me up at night.

Doesn’t matter how many others I’ve killed since then or will likely have to kill in the near future. It’s the face of that first Chinese solider who continues to haunt me.

I wonder if I should be grateful I don’t see any other faces. I’d never manage to sleep at all if I did.

Homer was sitting watch, but I send back to his cot. There was no point in both of us staying awake after all. He’s been more on edge since the bridge. Corrie has always been his friend too; he knew as well as I did just how much we’d have both lost if the bullet had struck true instead of grazing across her side the way it did.

I don’t want to think about that possibility, either. It’s enough that she was able to get away on the back of that bike, clinging tightly to her boyfriend despite the blood and the fiery sting on her side.

I got hit myself during our last supply run. I hate that the wound means I finally know for sure how much Corrie must have been hurting. I wonder if it’s strange that I don’t care how much my own wound hurt me.

It’s just hard to even consider any more – my own pain in the face of someone else’s. I’m a soldier now. There’s no going back to who I was, to who any of us were.

Corrie somehow is the one who keeps her innocence for me. I don’t know how she manages it, but there’s still hope inside her, still that bright eyed strength that I’ve depended on for so much longer than I think I knew.

She’s my sister, and she still believes that we can win this war. That someday we’ll get to go home and have our families back. Even though her home was destroyed, it’s Corrie who makes herself remember the place isn’t as important as the people we love. That those are what make a home a home.

Kevin’s a lucky little shit; that’s all I have to say. I’m just glad he’s finally figured that out. He joins Corrie and I in our weapons prepping after only a few minutes tonight. He’s not sleeping much better than I am, at least not when Corrie isn’t there. Kevin keeps dreaming the bullet cost him a lot more than a few sleepless nights while Corrie figured out how to sleep on her left side.

It’s a nightmare both of us are afraid of.

We don’t speak, not just yet, wanting to let the others sleep as long as possible even though the sky over Hell is beginning to darken as the sun sets.

It’s almost time to begin our guerilla war again for the night.

Corrie nudges my elbow and smiles over at me, eyes tired but unafraid.

I smile back, and know somehow, some way, I’ll do all I can to keep that smile on her face. I see my future in Corrie’s smile. I have to think she knows it, too.

I think that is why we’re going to win – that we have hope. Or that Corrie does at least. That’s a stronger force than Homer’s latest haphazard explosive device or Chris’s pot stash or even than Robyn’s God. At least for me, it is. For Kevin too, I think.

I have to wonder where Corrie finds her hope, but I know I’ll be too scared to ask. It’s enough that she found it and that she’s willing to share it with me.

I won’t betray that hope. I’ll keep fighting and winning until we take back what was taken from us. I have to.

I pink-swore it to Corrie that we’d get through this, after all. There’s no going back on a promise like that. Not to her. Not for me.

 


End file.
